


Fragrances of Love

by Tipispip



Category: Naruto
Genre: Angst, Hanahaki Disease, Multi, One-Sided Attraction, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-04
Updated: 2019-03-04
Packaged: 2019-11-08 21:59:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,528
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17989271
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tipispip/pseuds/Tipispip
Summary: The first time she sees him in five years, she laughs. Laughs for what could have been, laughs at the smile lines on his face and how he has aged without her by his side. It’s less destructive to laugh, they tell her, and so she laughs until she cries.Or, a Hanahaki love story where one side of the triangle shrivels.





	Fragrances of Love

**Author's Note:**

> Major character death relates to the main character, so please read only if you're comfortable.

The first time she sees him in five years, she laughs. Laughs for what could have been, laughs at the smile lines on his face and how he has aged without her by his side. It’s less destructive to laugh, they tell her, and so she laughs until she cries. 

It starts a week later, with her attempting to enjoy a dinner cooked by Naruto. He could never cook, but he’s trying and for that she is grateful. He is a long way from the idiotic teen he once was, no longer pining for anyone who gives him attention. They don’t mention how they’ve both aged, or the new return in their lives. They also don’t speak about her sadness, or the anger she has carried for so long. She feels a cough coming on, blames it on her new habit of replacing therapy with cigarettes. Suddenly, there is an ache building, different the one that’s been there since he returned. A knock at Naruto’s door gives her an excuse to run to the back, stating her bladder as the cause. The minute she closes the door, a flurry of petals escapes her throat, gagging her with their scent. She thinks back, her rare Sunday lessons on flower types. A geranium – associated with foolhardiness and stupidity. She wonders what the hell it was doing in her lungs, dread filling her. But secretly, she knows – knows the future that awaits her; the excruciating death she read about ages ago as a child. All she can wonder is, well, who. Who does she think she’s worth dying over? Except, once again, she knows. 

He came back on a Friday, the warm sun doing nothing to tell her about the pain she is about to experience. She was on her way home from work, nothing special marking that day until she gets the call. And if her coffee mug shatters onto the floor, no one’s eyes are there to see it. There’s also no one there to witness her plucking shards of glass from her hand while tears threaten to burst the dam in her eyes.  
Naruto embraces him hard, acts like he never left, as if he never abandoned them. They grew up NarutoSakuraSasuke and he still never felt welcomed. Even in her love for them as family, and more, she never said anything. Instead, she plasters a smile on and feigns a headache. He didn’t come back for her, they all know it, but before she leaves she still kisses his cheek and welcomes him back. As she walks away, Naruto hugs him. She wonders why he even came back, but a brief glance at her boys tells her all she needs to know. One, that they’re no longer hers, and two, that they’re each other’s.

So, Sakura throws herself into her work, avoiding them and becoming a master of excuses. Her imaginary immune system is so wrecked that she must be dying, which isn’t very far from the truth. Her lungs feel restricted, every breath places thorns into her heart. She can almost imagine the beauty of her death – the thorns skillfully wrapping their way around her heart, much like her once-upon-a-time boys did. She imagines her funeral, with flowers sprouting from her throat, and the irony that the only flowers anyone would bring her would be from herself. She spends more time visiting graves of people she’s never met, hopes someone will one day do the same for her. She places pink carnations (remembrance she thinks) on their graves, while spitting up white carnations on the side (untainted love she remembers as she grimaces). 

Its two months since he’s been back, and she’s only seen him twice. She’s only seen either of them twice, and her heart hurts. She imagines making them bouquets from her sadness and leaving them at their doors as a final goodbye. She hasn’t talked to anyone about it, but she knows that she doesn’t have too much longer. Not since the blood and thorns have started to join the flowers. She wonders why the disease is progressing faster, but then again she’d always been an over-acheiver.

“I don’t believe it” are the first words out of her mouth when she sees them the next time. They’re happy and holding hands and everything she ever wanted from them. Except its directed at each other and it’s not fair. Everything she ever worked for, everything she ever did for them, was erased the minute she saw them. Their interlocking hands made anger build. Her stomach became a crawling pit of anger and despair. He forgave him so easily, and yet neither had attempted to comfort her for her loss ages ago. Neither had attempted to console her, or to even reach out. And yet, here they are, strolling the streets as if Sasuke never betrayed them, as if he never left. A hyacinth makes it way out of her lips before she can stop it – but to be fair, so do the tears. The purple petals fall from her lips before an apology can, their star shapes floating to the ground, like the shuriken they had used as genin on Team 7. The worst part isn’t even showing her sickness in public, it’s that they didn’t even look over.

Sakura leaves on a Friday night, three months after Sasuke returns. No one notices. She claims exhaustion to leave the hospital early, and with everyone too busy with returnees from an ANBU mission, no one notices her departure. Only Tsunade-shishou knows of her plan to leave. Her eyes water, especially when Sakura tells her of her illness, but she understands. Grants her a leave, and makes her promise to return one day whole and no longer sick. So, she promises (even though they both knew it was a lie). She goes home, packs her belongings into scrolls, and simply walks away. The guards don’t question her presence. No one does anymore. She is twenty, and dying, and for the first time, she doesn’t feel like she is living in the shadows of anyone. She follows the direction of the wind, and walks into the darkness of the forest. 

The ache in her chest worsens the further away she gets, but her breaths even out for the first time in two months. Her final farewell to her village is the small forget-me-nots she coughs into the chilly night air. Its ironic, one of the best medics in her generation, and she can’t even heal herself. For the first time since Sasuke left, she sits and allows herself to cry for what could have been. She cries for all they have lost, for who she used to be, and for who she wishes she could be. 

It takes them three days to notice she is gone. Naruto barges into her apartment on a Sunday morning, seeking out her medical knowledge so he could by-pass the hospital. Except the only trace he could find was her furniture stripped bare, and a pile of blue petals in a pool of blood. It didn’t even smell like her anymore. So, he does as he has always done and runs, runs headfirst into the Hokage’s office, demanding to know where his long-ago teammate is. She tells him that one of his teammates has left (again) and that no, he cannot go after her. She explains, through his temperamental tears, that Sakura is ill and searching for a cure. 

She travels, moving under the stars until forest turns to stone beneath her feet. She takes refuge in a small inn, no longer bother to conceal her features. No one would be looking for her anyway, since hopefully Tsunade had honored her request to not tell the idiots where she was. 

It was freeing, not being stuck in anyone’s shadow for the first time in her life. Ino, her team, her mentors – they all overpowered her. But now, she was free to be herself. The pain she felt when others moved on with their lives while she was chasing after the unattainable was immense. But now, she was free to chase herself, and her own wants. No more of placing others before herself. Except, if that were true, she would remove the vines warping her lungs, but she figured she could grant herself one last solace. Her love of them. Even if it was killing her, she would be okay. She would die knowing she never gave up her love. 

Love was the one thing she used to keep sane, with every punch and death, she justified it for love. It was sad, but it made her who she was, and without it she was lost. A smile graced her face with every blood-covered petal that escaped her.

She made it two months before she caught wind of it. According to Kiyoshi, the lovely lady she bought her fruits from every week, two so-called hellions were tracing down a pretty, young lady down. Sakura didn’t need details to know it was them. Leave it to Naruto to never give up. But it was too late, they were always too late when it came to her. 

It takes them another month to find her. She leaves her meager apartment one afternoon for a walk, only to come back to the door slightly ajar. Even without her shinobi training, she knew who had not so kindly broken in. She could feel her chest tighten with every step, her lungs constricting around whatever new floral arrangement it was constructing. 

“So this is what you left us for, Sakura?” Sasuke quips the moment she walks in. She’s secretly hurt but also relieved that Naruto was quietly in the corner, inspecting her small collection of books. She is too tired to even try to push him away if he tried to come near her. 

“I suppose it doesn’t look like much, but it’s home.” She replies, grateful they cant hear the stutter of her heartbeat when she says home. Her home is with them, her mind cries. 

“Sakura-chan, this isn’t home! You left it –“ us her mind thinks - “ to do what exactly, research something? Baa-chan said you were sick, but we can help Sakura-chan.” 

Tears filled Naruto’s eyes during his speech, but it was too late for that. She couldn’t return just to let them watch her die. 

“No.” 

It’s short, like her life at this point she thinks bitterly, but it apparently was not what he wanted to hear. 

“Why? Didn’t you think about how this would affect us? We just got all of us back, look whatever we did, I’m sorry, if I could go back and fix it I would.”

Sasuke, having been silent since his remark, looks away from the wall to Naruto. He must be aching to comfort him, she thinks. Always joined at the hip, those two. 

“You don’t even know what you did! You don’t even know how its killing me!” She screams, throat raw at the sudden use. “How can you honestly think I did this to spite you, I did this for me. For once, I did something for myself.”

His face crumples, tears finally falling to the floor. Even Sasuke’s mask seems to falter. 

“If it’s so bad, what did we do?” So, he finally speaks, how typical. But even at his words, no matter how heartbreaking, she couldn’t tell them. It would ruin them. It’s easier to think she just left, but of course they fucked it all up by following her. Her breathing constricts, and she can’t tell if its her own panic closing in, or if she’s about to have another fit. Regardless, they need to leave before they figure it out. 

“I’m sorry bu- “her sentence is cut short as her vision fades black. No, not now. She doesn’t have a moment to react before she’s hacking, flowers blocking her lungs. Orange lilies -hatred and pride- splatter onto her floor, accompanied by her blood. She never liked red, especially with orange. How fitting that they finally figure it out and they’re probably too concerned with her to realize the flower’s meaning. Her mother once said that her pride and self-hatred would get to her eventually. I doubt this was what she had in mind.  
A duet of her name graces her ears before her legs finally give out. This must be it, her final bouquet for them. Maybe Naruto will find comfort in the orange, and Sasuke will find comfort in Naruto. Her last thoughts are of her boys who will no longer be held back. 

 

The smell of antiseptic assaults her nose, before she opens her eyes. She expects white walls and machines to line the room she’s in. Of course they wouldn’t give up. Her boys were always too stubborn for their own good. At the incessant beeping, she opens her eyes to a blinding glare from the sun reflecting off of – she guessed it – while walls and a heart monitor. Looking over, she can’t tell if she is relieved to not see either of them in the chair that occupies her bedside. Instead, it’s her mentor.  


“Tsunade,” she whispers, “why am I back?”  


The looks she receives tells her all she needs to know. She is here because they wouldn’t give up, and no one had the heart to tell them she was dying. Instead of thinking of them, her mind wanders to her mother’s garden. To the wonderful tales her mother would weave about each flower’s origin, and the story of their creation. She wonders if her death will be beautiful. The pain is anything but, with dirt and thorns scratching her throat with every breath, her breath sickly sweet. The petals between her teeth a sign of her oncoming demise. The irony of her namesake being what kills her never escaped her. Rebirth, that is what sakura petals mean. Maybe in another life she will find someone worth her love.  


She does what she can, allowing Tsunade to partially remove the disease filling her body. She’s always been a glutton for punishment and won’t allow her mentor to remove all of it. It lessens the pain, but it’s still there. What isn’t there are her memories, becoming fuzzier with ever stem and thorn removed. She nearly cries as she realizes she can’t remember their first day as a team, can’t place what prank Naruto played, or the feelings she had when she heard who was on her team. She does cry when she can’t remember the pain she felt when Sasuke left. She knows, vaguely, that she felt anger and betrayal, and an overwhelming sense of not-good-enough. But it’s mostly lingering from the years she spent stewing in her own mind.  


They aren’t allowed to visit, she decides. She will live out her life with her memories and pain pills to comfort her. The scar running down her sternum is a constant reminder that her death is still coming, if only delayed for now. There is no need to place her guilt onto them too. But when have those two ever listened to rules? She should have known, and a small part of her did know when they crawled through her window that night. She always knew her heart would be her downfall, but she should’ve known that Naruto’s love outweighs even her own. Even for Sasuke, Team 7 was the closest he’s had to a family in ages.  


“Sakura-chan,” his voice a whisper, barely heard over the monitors in the room “why didn’t you say anything? Why did you choose to suffer through this alone?” 

She feels her heart breaking at that, as if she had a choice.  


“I guess I took a book out of your page. You two suffered alone for so long, it was only fair I caught up.” A bitter laugh escapes her. Even now, she is trying so hard to compete and be their equal.  


“The Hokage says there’s a cure.” Sasuke, always curt, tells her. As if it would solve her problems. As if he knows what the surgery would do to all of them. As if it wasn’t worse than death to forget them.  


“I can’t, you just don’t understand. I refuse to do it.” Her throat constricts, and once again she can’t tell if it’s from the tears or the petals.  


“You idiot,” Naruto cries, always the emotional one, “we know. We know what it means, but it’s better to have you live, damn it! We love you” – apparently not, she thinks – “and it’s a better option than to see you suffer.”  


So, they know. Know her love is slowly killing her, and even then, she can’t help but feel betrayed. No matter how much they love her, it will never be enough. They can’t escape the twisted love triangle, with them in love with each other, and her trailing behind like always.  


“I’m sorry, boys. I never had a choice. It’s too late anyway. Tsunade says I don’t have enough strength to survive even if I wanted the surgery.” Her tears finally fall, and she internally berates herself. Why show weakness, why now after so long? Crying does no one any good at this point. She can taste the soil building in her mouth, knows it won’t be long before her death draws near. She’s prepared, knows just what she’s sacrificing. She would give anything for her boys, even if they were never her boys to begin with.  


A cough startles them all, but nothing prepares the two boys for a lilac, stem and all, to escape her mouth. Sasuke knows what it symbolizes, the purity of a first love. He thinks back, back to their genin days when she was vibrant and alive. When all he wanted was to protect them. And now, her hair lays limp on the pillow supporting her, her eyes no longer filled with that fire. Her body is frail and thin, she’s obviously close to death. For once, he wishes he could love her. Wishes for anything that would save her. He wonder’s how Naruto feels, if he has the same sinking feeling in his chest, dreading the hole she would leave in their life. He thinks lilacs suit her, and this situation. Not for the first time, he wishes things were different.  


“I think you should leave” Sakura finally says into the quiet of the room. He looks, and tears are streaming down her face, and he honestly can’t say he blames her. The life of a Kinochi means death surrounds you, but no one ever expects it to be at one’s own hand. It’s the worst death one can bear.  


Naruto, her sweet boy, was never good at hiding his emotions. She always loved that about him. But now, she hates it. Hates the hurt that filters over his face, and the pure look of devastation. She hopes her death won’t affect them, hopes they’ll grow into each other, rather than apart.  


“But we can’t leave Sakura-chan, we just got you back.” She feels her heart break once again, losing count of how many times they’ve caused it to do so.  


“I’m sorry boys. I wish I could have loved you less, but if anyone deserved unconditional love, it was you two. Look, I’m tired, how about you come back tomorrow?”  


“We’ll be here. Goodnight Sakura. I’m sorry too. I love you.” They all ignore the unsaid – I love you, but not enough to save you. As they exit her window, she cries. Cries for all she could have had, for her future. It would have been so much easier to be mad, but she can’t even do that. She wishes she could hate one for stealing the other away, but even in her death she can’t. In fact, she’s grateful they have each other.  


Team Seven was never expected to work well. A civilian girl with a heart too big, a blonde boy hated by all, but with naivety wider than a canyon, and a recluse who witnessed his family’s death. They’d all be lying if they ever thought anyone but Sakura would die first. They all expected a stray kunai, or a mission gone wrong. Never did they think she would die at their hands.  
When they entered her room the next morning, they found an empty bed, soiled by blood and dirt. With fear running in their veins, the rush to the nurses’ station. Surgery. She would be okay, right? Would they be alright? Could they all move on without the other?  


“I’m sorry Naruto. And you too Sasuke. It was too late, she was too weak.”  


On autopilot, they walk into the room where she took her last breaths. There, on the table, was their Sakura with her chest splayed open. She was surrounded by blood and mud and those fucking flowers.  


“She didn’t deserve this. She deserved better.” Naruto cries into Sasuke’s chest, whose own chest was shaky and barely breathing. He walks closer, sees the Sakura tree beginning to form, its branches reaching to the sky and its roots encircling her heart.  


“Yeah, she did.”

**Author's Note:**

> Howdy, the author wrote this after losing a drunken bet and hasn't seen Naruto in about six years, so I apologize for any out of character-ness or misspellings. Let me know if any other content warning are needed!


End file.
